Stay the Night
by mushsroomsandcucumbers
Summary: Sherlock doesn't want a complete stranger to move in to his building. His only option is to find someone else. Someone who he can actually stand to be around for more than 5 minutes. Sherlolly story :) Post HLV.
1. Someone's moving in

"What do you mean someone's moving in downstairs?"

The elder woman looked at her hands uncomfortabley. She didn't want to be have to be the one to tell Sherlock the news. She had known what his reaction would be and she wasn't wrong at all.

"What I said. Someones moving in to 221/C."

"But you said its damp. You said no one would take it."

"I don't know Sherlock, they must be desperate or something. Look dear, try not to worry. I'm sure they'll be very nice." She tried to console him but it was futile. He had turned his back on her, blue dressing gown swooshing with the movement.

"Mrs Hudson, I don't care if they're nice I don't want anyone to move in there."

"Why Sherlock?"

"It'll change things." Mrs Hudson had to fight of the urge to giggle. She would've of thought he'd be used to change by now, what with' John and Mary and everything that had happened.

"You won't even have to see them if you really don't want to."

"But I will because they'll insist on being neighbourly and aarrgghh!" Sherlock collapsed on the sofa, sulking. Again. Mrs Hudson sighed.

"Look Sherlock, I …. I need the money and, it'll only be for a little while."

Sherlock glanced over his shoulder.

"If you needed money all you had to do is ask."

"I am not a charity case Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson shouted, exasperated. This made Sherlock jump. Mrs Hudson never shouted. "I will make my own money."

"Fine!" He snapped back turning to face the sofa again. Mrs Hudson shifted her feet uncormfortalbley. Suddnenly he shot up, letting his dressing gown fall from his shoulders and grabbing his coat. "I'm going to Barts." 

The old woman sighed and followed him out, clinging to the hope that a nice body would put him in a better mood.


	2. Please Molly?

"Molly I need you to do something for me."

The words caused Molly to choke on the piece of pasta that she was chewing, and for every head in the canteen to turn to the man who had just burst in.

Unfazed by the added attention, Sherlock sat down opposite Molly who had turned an alarming shade of red.

"What * cough * What do want Sherlock?" She coughed out, desperately trying to recover.

"I want you to move in 221/c." He answered, seriously.

"Wha * cough cough*" Molly choked on her second piece of pasta.

"Molly I think this conversation would move a lot faster if you refrained from eating."

"Sher * cough * I can't just move! Why?"

"Mrs Hudson said someone is moving in to 221/c and I don't want anyone to move in to 221/c."

"Well then why are you asking me to move in to 221/c?"

"Because Mrs Hudson says someone has to move in to 221/c and if someone has to move in then I'd rather it was someone I actually liked."

Molly couldn't help but let a small smile escape, Sherlock didn't detest her company and she took that as a compliment. Probably one of the best she's ever going to get from him.

"Look Sherlock why would I move? I like my flat."

"No you don't you hate it. And I happen to know that your contract is finishing at the end of this month and your landlord wants you out because he doesn't like your cat."

"How do you... No nevermind. The only reason I hate my flat is because of my landlord that and … the smell."

"Mrs Hudson's a lovely landlady and you can keep your cat and please Molly? Please?" Molly almost laughed at the face he was giving her. She didn't the words, "puppy dog eyes" could ever apply to Sherlock but here they were. It made him even harder to turn down.

"Sherlock I can't just move because you ask me too!?"

"Why not?"

"Becau... I … Fine."

"Excellent." Sherlock beamed. "You need to sort out the details with Mrs Hudson and I'm off to the lab. Bye Molly."

"Wait Sherl..." Molly sighed he was already gone. Molly stared down at shoes, suddenly losing her appetite So she was going to become Sherlock's neighbour. Molly didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

_This should be interesting. _


	3. Damp

Molly sighed as she placed down the last box it what she assumed was her new living. Wiping the sweat away from her for head she glanced around the room, trying to ignore the peeling wallpaper and the smell of damp.

The day had been tiring. Molly had spent it around a bunch of incompetent removal men who insisted on having a cup of tea every ten minutes only to arrive at her new flat to find it sincerely lacking in any sort of … well

… appeal.

But really who moves into a place they hadn't seen before.

Molly Hooper apparently, when Sherlock Holmes asked her too. It wasn't that she didn't try. He just wouldn't let her. She knew why now.

Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of anger Molly marched up the stairs. Knocking harshly on Sherlock door before pushing herself in without asking for a reply.

"What the hell Sherlock!?" She exclaimed loudly. Sherlock however, didn't move an inch from his position on the sofa.

"You could have told me about the damp! And the smell!?"

"Ah, Molly. Just the person I wanted to see. I wonder if you could fetch me some more of those thumbs, I've just thought.."

"Wa... What?" Molly breathed in disbelief. "Sherlock I am not getting you any thumbs. I am not getting you any bloody thumbs ever again!" She shouted as she stormed out the door. Too blinded by anger and disbelief to think clearly.

How could he do that? How could any man be so unbelievably ignorant? What the hell planet is he living on?

How could she have been so stupid as to listen to a man like him?

Blinking away tears Molly crawled onto her mattress. It was on the floor because she hadn't put her bed back together get. Sniffing, she sighed again as Toby came and curled up against her stomach.

"Oh Toby." She sighed. "What am I going to do?"


	4. Sorry

Sherlock was bored. That was nothing new, he spent most of his time being bored. He had no cases on, John was off catering to Mary's every craving and, worst of all, he had no accesses to the morgue.

He wasn't sure why. Molly hadn't spoken to him since she moved in. Everytime he bumped into her she failed to acknowledge him and when he'd gone to the morgue a couple of days ago she had refused point-blank to let him in. He'd tried all of his usual techniques but they had only seemed to make her even more infuriated. Sherlock considered himself a clever man but he couldn't quite get his head around his pathologists recent behaviour. In the past she had always succumbed to his flirting but now she seemed immune.

Sighing he collapsed in his chair. It was quarter past nine. Molly would be leaving for her night shift soon. Maybe he could 'bump' into her?

Quieting his brain down enough, he listened carefully to the noises coming from the flat below. She was probably throwing her food in a bag and hunting for her keys. Perfect.

He made his way down the stairs, straightening out his suit and finishing his plan as he went before taking his place on the opposite side of Molly's door where he waited.

XXX

Molly was stressed. She'd forgotten to prepare food for work and had had to throw together a quick sandwich before discovering she had lost her keys. It took ten minutes to find them which meant that she would now, definitely be late for work for the third time that week. She was really lucky her boss was so understanding.

And now, to make matters so much worse, she had opened her door to only to walk smack in to Sherlock bloody Holmes, who, despite the fact that she was supposed to be loathing his guts right now, still smelled and felt amazing.

"Ow." She cried as she held her nose. "Sherlock why the hell were you standing outside my door?" She shouted, forgetting her strict -no-talking-to-Sherlock-under-any-circumstances- rule.

Sherlock, for once, looked shocked.

"I was not standing outside your door! I was walking past your door when you walked into me!" He protested.

"I am not stupid Sherlock. I know you were standing outside my door because you were facing me when I walked into you!" She was really losing her temper now but he deserved it.

"Very well Molly. I wanted to talk to you."

"Well as I'm sure you've already bloody well deduced, I am very late and very stressed and now really isn't a good time."

"Please Molly? I won't take very long." He pleaded. He was doing that thing with his eyes again.

"No Sherlock. I have to go." She stated before brushing past him. It took all her resolve to resist him each time but she had done it yet again and for that she was proud.

He pride was short-lived however, because before she could get any further Sherlock grabbed her arm. Not so much that it hurt but enough to stop her from moving any further away.

"Molly wait!" He sighed. "Can I talk to you on the way to work then? I'll pay for a cab, it'll be quicker that way and you won't be late. Please?"

Molly sighed. She did need to get to work and if Sherlock could help her to be on time then she couldn't really refuse.

"Fine. But you're still not allowed in the morgue." Sherlock nodded his head in concession and followed her outside. He quickly flagged down a cab and Molly was surprised when he held the door open for her to get in first. She quickly dismissed the feeling. No doubt it was another attempt to flatter her into submission. She refused to let it work.

The journey didn't take long. There was little traffic that late on a Thursday night. Sherlock broke the silence in the cab.

"Why are you avoiding me Molly?"

She knew it was coming but she still didn't want to talk.

"Because you asked me to move into the flat downstairs and I agreed, as a favour to you. But you refused to let me see the flat before hand, because you knew if I saw it I wouldn't want to move in. It's damp Sherlock. It absolutely stinks and is quite possibly the most grotty flat I have ever lived in! It is partly my fault. I accept that. I shouldn't have agreed to move in without seeing it."

"So that's why you're so angry." Sherlock muttered to himself. It was all coming together for him now. "But why didn't you say anything Molly?"

"I did. You didn't listen. You were too concerned about your thumbs. And then you have the audacity to try and flirt your way back into the morgue. That hurt Sherlock. I thought we were past that stage. After I helped you fake your death and everything." She finished. She had to admit it felt good to finally tell him. He couldn't feign ignorance anymore and had no choice but to accept that he had done something wrong.

Sherlock was silent for a while, his mind churning over everything that Molly had said. Deep down he knew she was right. It was bad of him to get her to move into the flat knowing fully well the state it was in. He had been an idiot. John was right.

"I am sorry Molly. It was wrong of me and I will try to make it right." He said, with all the sincerity he could muster.

Words failed Molly. She had never expected such a sincere apology from him, in fact she had barely expected an apology at all. But there was no denying the man in front of her was sorry, and she didn't know what to think.

"Stop the cab please." Sherlock called out to the driver, thrusting him a wad of notes as he did. "Take her to St. Barts Hospital or wherever else she wants to go. Goodbye Molly."

"Bye!" She called back but he was gone.

She really didn't know what to think.

And then the bomb went off.


End file.
